Apologize to a servant? Qian Xuegang swallowed his astonishment.

  While he hesitated, the ashen one rested a wearied, askance look upon Yin Yue. "There is no need," he assured. "I am the one who ought apologize. But words are cheap, Qian-gongzi, so let me make amends if I can. I have some way with cy and paint. Allow me to repair the crane token for you as a sign of good will between your family and Cn Ming. A sign of mended bridges."

  He turned for the boy, his brows raised. "What say you, Ming-zongzhu?"

  The unexpected question shook Yin Yue from his wrath. He found he could not master his own qualms; his Huijin could as well have offered to throw the porcein crane into a sty. It took him a moment to remember himself, and a while longer yet before his eyes cleared and he dared to draw breath again.

  And in that silence, Qian Xuegang seized his chance. Though he had every reason to act as a confident master, he cast himself to his knees and prostrated himself with no care for his own humiliation.

  "Huijin of Ming! Truly was my ire mispced. Accept this humble master's apology and fervent request to see the token mended!"

  So unexpected was this, that when the ndowner threw himself down with such sudden vehemence, Huijin stepped before the boy as if he meant to shield him from a treacherous blow.

  "I—," he began, "there is no need for this. Please rise—"

  "So you accept?" Qian Xuegang broke in. "Ming-zongzhu! I am most grateful to you both."

  He waited with bated breath. In the end, it was the servant who first found his voice and composure.

  "Qian Xuegang," said he, stern of manner, "I believe it is best if you reveal what this is about, and leave no part of it in the shadows. If your conscience is clean, Cn Ming will avail you."

  As Yin Yue took a step back, his anger eaten by the first cold touch of regret, Huijin resumed, "This spirit-beast, the broken crane, Shang Hansheng and your past ties to Cn Ming - what is this all about?"

  The ndowner met the servant's eyes, his own face at war. Outrage, ire, regret, defeat fought and quelled each other, then crested like waves on the sea. At st did his will bleed out of him.

  "Ah, so be it," he sighed. "I fear this is not a tale of great valor, but you are right, servant of Ming. I have not been honest with you, and all this because I hoped to defend the man I once called my friend and brother. And to protect the reputation of the former Ming-zongzhu in whose service I once thrived, brief as it might have been."

  He turned his back to them, his hands csped, and raised his eyes skyward.

  "Accursed sun," spat he with a sudden fre of ire. "No propriety is known to you. Hide your smile behind the clouds, for there is no joy in this tale of Qian Xuegang and Shang Hansheng."

  "Make yourself clear,"Huijin returned. Though he stood slight and garbed like the humblest of servants, there was in his tone the ghost of gege's own voice.

  "So I shall," hasted the ndowner. "Forgive a man his reticence." He swallowed. "We were cultivators once, myself and brother Shang. Novices, yes, but close as brothers. No cn did we seek then. We were young and arrogant and thought great accomplishments could be won unfettered from distractions and obligations to the jianghu's cns. We wanted to wander the path of Lu Yuxin. The ignorance of boys, ah? Well, so we came here and chanced to meet upon the te Ming-zongzhu on the road. Those were tumultuous days, before Cn Ming had pacified the southern nds and the territories which belong to Cn Mao. Bandits hailed the nds as their own in those days, and their skirmishes brought them as far as Caodi. In their hubris, they assaulted the young Ming-zongzhu and scattered his entourage. They were pilging his coffers when we fell upon them and chased them off."

  Qian Xuegang bared his teeth. "But it came with a price. We were not as skilled as we had thought. And though we surprised them, those brigands proved to have sworn an oath to the Ziyou Alliance of the southern mountains. They were skilled warriors. And I -... I was the better swordsman of us two, so I escaped with shallow injuries. Brother Shang fared worse. He lost three fingers on his sword-hand to a brigand-lieutenant with a sickle.

  He ran his hand over his knuckles as if he felt the injury himself. "That was why the te Ming-zongzhu rewarded us. In those days, fool as I was, I believed that we could still achieve our dream, and I chose for myself the token of virtue to keep with me on the road. Much honor was there in such a token for a rogue cultivator."

  The ndowner drew a deeper breath. His voice darkened as he watched a lone wisp of a cloud on the skies, much too threadbare to shield them from the sun's vile grin. "Ming-zongzhu, in his grace, bequeathed me the crane and the nd on which my farm now stands. But brother Shang was devastated. Certain he could no longer follow me on the road, and too— proud to stay in my shadow, he sought refuge on the hills. He rejected Ming-zongzhu's token of appreciation and contented himself with the cottage, so that he could live alone with his regret. Heartbroken, I wandered some years on my own before I returned here to seek his forgiveness for my solitary journey. I had broken our vow."

  The ashen one heeded each word, his countenance sharp. Under the sun's bze, with his hair touched by the wind, the gray moth's shadow painted a fierce sight on the pastures.

  "But brother Shang had drunk much from the chalice of resentment," continued Qian Xuegang. "No pardon could I find in his heart. He drove me away. He would not even open his door to me. But as he lived in squalor, without a soul to care for him, I returned to Caodi to tend to my livestock and care for him in what ways I could. Every moon, I would deliver a little cart of goods to his refuge. I had it coincide with the Emperor's tribute day to preserve his pride."

  The ndowner scoffed and shook his head. "Yet, who could have known that charity only served to harden brother Shang's heart against me? He soon turned cruel in his isotion. Set traps to capture beasts. He did not need to hunt; I provided him with meat and grain enough. But he reveled in it."

  The ndowner's hands tightened to fists. "I thought at first he had taken up the trade as a leatherworker, until one day, I came upon him skinning a wild hare alive. Still did I refuse to accept his fate. I tried harder to reach him, to earn his reprieve. Until— a moon ago, I came to his cottage and found him consumed with resentment. There was no man left in him then. He bore the look of a wolf when he saw me, he sneered, spat, tried to bite. I had to hold him down. Then, I fled. The attacks on the vilge began soon thereafter. His resentment seems to have brought about a spirit beast; some distorted incarnation of his own spite. That is what haunts this vilge, cnsmen of Ming."

  Qian Xuegang's voice wavered. "When he killed your cultivator, I knew his end was near; that he could no longer be saved. So I lured him from the mountain to end that which I felt I had caused."

  There we have it, thought Huijin as he took the boy's sleeve and pulled him closer to himself. Why he did so, he knew not. He had no heart for the boy's comfort. But even then did he wish to hide him behind his back. And Yin Yue, mute as the moon, took a step closer to stand behind his servant.

  "Shang Hansheng's hatred had gorged itself too much," the ndowner sighed. "I told you the truth before, Huijin of Ming. The spirit came to me, and for a moment did I see my old friend in the beast's eyes."

  "What owes this resentment?" Huijin broke in. "You tell us the te Ming-zongzhu offered to reward you both. Ever was he fair to those he held in esteem. Why should you friend decline the reward, and more — turn from the path of cultivation? I have heard of men with worse impairments who still wield the bde and refine their true qi."

  "What owes it?" echoed Qian Xuegang. "That which hides in the hearts of all men, Huijin of Ming. Envy. With his hand ruined, his dream had been shattered. He was forced to watch me walk a path he could not follow. And he never forgave that I left him here. He was never — he was no Lu Yuxin, you understand. He had practiced hard to reach his level of cultivation. Day and night. And even then had he been bested by a brigand; even then had his sword-hand been maimed. At his age, he did not believe he could learn to wield the bde with his other hand. For him was it too te."

  The ndowner hung his head and hid his eyes in his hand. He heaved for breath, his words strained but hard.

  "I confess I do not grieve for him as much as I should. Perhaps has he long been dead in my heart. And yet was I the cause of his fall, I bme myself, yes, but I — I cannot grieve that which I have grieved long ago."

  "I see."

  Huijin watched fall of white hair upon the man's back. He considered what he had heard with a faint, dull pain in his chest. Mired in his thoughts as he was, his hand almost wandered to run his thumb over the boy's wrist, but when he touched the skin there, he pulled back at once.

  Yin Yue, heart of stone and soul of ice, spoke then. His voice was ft as a scroll of paper. "Why does it only eat sheep, Qian-gongzi?"

  Qian Xuegang's voice was light, as that of a man who strains his throat to quell his own tears. "It is what I used to bring him, Ming-zongzhu. Mutton from my farm."

  The boy nodded at his back and leaned closer to Huijin to whisper, "We should leave."

  Huijin returned a faint nod, but his cheeks were bleak and his eyes dark with wearied grief. If he had stood fierce a brief while ago, he did so no longer.

  Some tale was this, he thought. One brother consumed by envy, the other has the habit of insincerity. Neither of you were virtuous men, Qian-gongzi.

  And in that reflection, he saw himself, just as hideous. What merits he had once worn had never been his own; when gege yet lived, he too had shone. And when that light had been quelled, he had become a gray rock.

  No better than brother Qian and brother Shang.

  "Ming-zongzhu shall consider what you have told us," he said. "I still wronged you. I promised amends. Please give me the crane to repair for you." He held out his hand.

  The ndowner did not turn as he collected his prized token. He stared at it for a long while before he relinquished it, his eyes kept on the faraway mountains.

  "I know I need not tell you this," he murmured, "but please be careful with it. It reminds me of better days. Of what could have been."

  Huijin had no answer for that. He hid the crane in one of his pouches when Yin Yue took hold of his sleeve. The boy's voice was thin, as strained as if he kept great boulders on his shoulders.

  "Best of fortune, Qian-gongzi," he faltered, "with the — the talismans. We will come back to your farmstead when the crane has been repaired. Won't be long!"

  "We had best pursue the spirit, Qian-gongzi," agreed the servant. "Thank you for — ah, one st question. Does the clover here have any particur properties?"

  "The day grows te, Huijin of Ming, and my heart is heavy," answered the ndowner. "I do not know. You had best ask a herbalist. I do not know."

  The ashen one shook his head. The absurd, gruesome sight of the dead sheep, the stench of blood and innards and the thought that it might have crawled to eat even as it had been torn in half was like a fever dream to him. A dread terror. He felt sick, and his farewell was a mere murmur as he beckoned Ming-zongzhu to follow him.

  Yin Yue pulled harder at his sleeve. His breath, though quiet, came short and ragged. He had been unafraid that night, but now, as they walked away from the ndowner and his talismans, his steps quickened. When they had taken some distance, he cast an apprehensive look over his shoulder.

  "Yue'er?" asked Huijin, a soft frown on his brow. Yin Yue shook his head. But when they descended from the crest of the hill and the white-haired man of virtue was no longer in sight, the boy broke into a run. Straight for the old farmstead did he flee as he cried,

  "He's lying, Huijin!"